


Mind Reading and Nightmare Walking

by until_the_earth_is_free



Category: Hannibal (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alana is awesome even if Will is too in love with Hannibal to notice, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter has got it going on, Hannibal is a jerk, Hurt/Comfort, Legilimency, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Sleepwalking, Sorry I'll shut up now, Team Sassy Science is sassy, Will can read minds, Will's got the hots for Hannibal, Yeah that's right, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/until_the_earth_is_free/pseuds/until_the_earth_is_free
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is an untrained Legilimens who accidentally pokes the mind of one Hannibal Lecter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Will Graham rolled his wand between his fingers, absent-mindedly gazing out the window of his Transfiguration classroom while Professor Dumbledore explained the wand movement and posture techniques behind turning ravens into water goblets. It seemed an awful shame to take an animal’s life for a mere lesson and Will considered asking the professor if the bird could still think and feel while in the form of a goblet.

He discarded the idea when he remembered he was barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone raise his hand. He had woken up at around two that morning in an unfamiliar corridor that was nearer the dungeons than his dormitory in the Ravenclaw Tower and was too worried to go back to sleep in case he tripped down the spiral staircase in another sleepwalking venture.

His eyelids drooping, Will’s vision of the classroom seemed to swim and melt into a dark forest, the desks and students disappearing into the trees except for one boy, the one sitting in front of him. He was a tall, studious-looking teenager with light brown hair and wore a Gryffindor-coloured tie. The boy looked shocked by the sudden transformation of the room and he looked at Will with a curious look in his chestnut-brown eyes.

At the same moment that their eyes locked gaze, the forest immediately dissolved back into the classroom and the boy had turned around in his chair to stare at Will, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

“Is there anything the matter, Mr Lecter?” Professor Dumbledore asked, his eyes narrowing inquisitively behind his half-moon glasses.

“No, sir,” the boy replied and, with a defeated expression, he faced the front again.

~O~

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“What?”

Will looked up at the boy from the forest, who was leaning over his desk. Everyone was clearing their books and chatting to each other; it must have been the end of the lesson. Damn, did he fall asleep in class again?

The boy, Lecter or something, leaned in closer and spoke quietly.

“Legilimency. The art of penetrating someone’s mind.”

Will looked up at the boy blankly.

“Were you not aware you were doing it?”

Will chuckled and stood up, stretching his arms as he gathered his books.

“I wasn’t even aware I was awake.”

Lecter looked at Will carefully, slightly less impressed perhaps but definitely more curious.

“I could feel you in my mind. You were in the Forbidden Forest with me. Who taught you to do that?”

Will wasn’t sure what to say or what the boy was even talking about and he was frankly too tired to care.

“I have to go to my next class.”

“I insist on walking you there.”

Will internally groaned and gathered up his books before leaving the classroom, the boy following closely.

“You certainly weren’t taught Legilimency here,” the boy speculated. “I don’t even remember seeing you around last year.”

“I was ill,” Will said shortly.

The boy eyed him curiously but did not broach the subject.

“It didn’t feel trained. You were unfocussed. I believe you didn’t have any control over your mind.”

Will snorted but said nothing to confirm or deny the boy’s conjectures.

When they had reached the Charms classroom about three minutes late, the boy put his hand on the wall of the corridor, blocking Will from entering.

“Legilimency is Dark Magic, you realise,” the boy said. Will doubted the boy actually gave much consideration to the different moralities of magic but swallowed hard anyway.

“It would be most wise for you to not do it again.”

This seemed unfair to Will as he had not actually realised what he was doing at the time but he was in no position or mood to argue with the youth so he merely nodded his head.

The boy smiled with a practised sincerity.

“Splendid. My name is Hannibal Lecter. Yours?”

“Will Graham.”

Hannibal dropped his arm from the wall and allowed Will to open the door of his next lesson.

“I shall see you later, Will Graham,” Lecter called over his shoulder as he strode briskly away.

~O~

Will slunk in the back of the classroom and took his usual seat between his two closest friends, who moved their books to the sides of the desk to accommodate for their tardy classmate. The charms professor, although usually strict with attendance, was lenient with Will, for whom he had developed a soft spot and merely nodded as the boy sat down. It was practical work that lesson so there was an informal, chatty atmosphere in the room.

“Why are you so late?” asked Beverly, who was sitting to the left of Will. “Who was that you were talking to?”

“He said his name was Hannibal,” Will replied, flipping to the right page of the textbook.

“Hannibal Lecter?” Alana asked incredulously, while grabbing the book from Will and finding the page for him.

“He’s cute,” commented Beverly, nudging Will in the elbow.

“He’s strange,” Alana corrected. “He transferred last year from Durmstrang and even though he’s a Gryffindor, he’s always seen hanging out with Slytherins.”

“I’m a Gryffindor and I hang out with you Ravenclaws,” Beverly pointed out.

Alana shook her head and summoned a quill from the professor’s desk with a deft flick of her wand.

“He’s different somehow.”

“Are you alright, Will?” Beverly asked, her head cocked to one side, letting the tips of her long black hair drape on the desk.

“Yeah, just tired, I guess,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand and failing to summon a quill with the other.

Beverly and Alana exchanged a worried glance.

“I’m fine,” he asserted and smiled at them to confirm it.

But it couldn’t have been a very convincing smile because he had to deal with their expressions of concern for the rest of the lesson.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal invites Will to his study group. Will and Alana have a bit of a tiff.

That evening, Will was sitting in his usual place against the wall next to the nest of his favourite of the school owls, a tawny he had dubbed Winston. The Owlery was a quiet sanctuary for Will: students never really came up unless for necessity and they never spoke a word to the quiet boy stroking the owls.

Will didn’t have a pet of his own, his parents having never understood the need, so he sort of adopted the small parliament of school owls and gave them the attention that the private owls received from their respective owners.

Stroking Winston was extremely soothing and Will was almost considering sleeping in the Owlery when he heard a familiar, accented voice from the doorway.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

It was that Hannibal Lecter again. 

Will tucked his knees closer to his body and continued to scratch the bird under his wings, prompting a soft coo from Winston.

“I apologise for my demeanour earlier,” Hannibal said, still standing in the doorway.

Will twitched his lip and raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t say anything.

“You must understand that I was very surprised and my desire to prove whether you were purposefully invading my privacy took priority over common courtesy.”

Will shifted his weight against the wall slightly and Hannibal took that as forgiveness.

“I’d like to make it up to you. Would you like to come down and join my study group? We are collaborating on the Transfiguration essay Dumbledore set.”

Will, since he had no recollection of any homework being set and decided he wasn’t going to pass up an offer to help, nodded and whispered an apology to the owls before standing up and walking towards Hannibal.

~O~

The study group consisted of four boys in Slytherin colours who were sitting around a picnic table in the courtyard, talking loudly and apparently ignoring the stacks of parchment in front of them. When Hannibal and Will approached, they looked up and eyed the newcomer suspiciously.

“Will,” Hannibal said, graciously. “Allow me to introduce Abel, Frederick, Tobias and Riddle.”

Will’s eyes darted around the table, eyes staying on each boy just long enough to gage a sense of their attitude and personality. He didn’t find any of them that interesting until he reached Riddle.

The attractive, dark-haired boy was sitting with a stiff, alert posture, his arms placed on the table in an artful attempt at nonchalance. He had a sense of superiority in his eyes, masked by a veil of humility and everything about him felt theatrical and unreal.

Will glanced at Hannibal, who smiled serenely and gestured to an open space on the bench for Will to sit before taking his seat across from him, next to Riddle.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Frederick spoke.

“Not much of a talker, is he?”

“Or a looker,” mumbled Abel to Tobias, who chuckled darkly.

Will felt blood rush to his face and he was about to get up and leave before Hannibal frowned and said, “come on, boys. Let’s not be rude to our guest.”

The clipped formality of Hannibal’s words in Will’s defence was emphasised by his accent and Will found himself blushing further in gratitude.

As the boys started to discuss the technical issues behind the spell Verta Viro, Will paid close attention to Hannibal, who acted as the leader of the group, and Riddle, who seemed to operate as the second-hand man. He could sense Riddle’s underlying anger and disdain for the hierarchy but it was clear to Will that he was a very patient, intelligent introvert who preferred his passive role.

The group worked hard and exchanged ideas until everyone had an annotated first draft and it was time for dinner. Will was the first to stand up and, giving an awkward half-nod to the boys, gathered his sheets of parchment into a clumsy pile that he tucked under his arm, before heading towards the Great Hall.

“Hey, Will!”

Seated at the far end of the Ravenclaw table with Alana was Beverly and two boys from Hufflepuff. Sliding onto the end of the bench, Will placed his work on the floor and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sitting with the rest of your houses?” he asked, trying not to come across as rude and probably failing.

Beverly gave a small shrug and both her friends laughed. Rules just seemed to bend around that girl, like light around a black hole.

She introduced the Hufflepuffs as Brian and Jimmy and they tipped their goblets to Will in mock salute.

“Where were you earlier?” Alana asked Will, as Beverly turned Brian’s juice into water from the Black Lake, causing him to temporarily choke and spit his drink out over Jimmy.

“Hannibal invited me to his study group. We were working on the essay.”

Alana pursed her lips, which prompted a flicker of irritation in Will. It wasn’t her business if he was actually making new friends.

It must have been echoed in his face because Alana said, “I just don’t know why you’d want to spend time with Slytherins.”

“Firstly, Hannibal is a Gryffindor. Secondly, why do you even care what house they’re in? Or are you just trying to make sure you’re the only person I can talk to?”

There was a tense silence as the three others froze their shenanigans in surprise at the volume and harshness of Will’s voice.

“I just want what’s best for you,” Alana whispered, her eyes wide with sincerity.

Will could feel pity dripping from her voice and knew she was referring to his ‘illness’ last year. But if the healers at St Mungo’s were no longer concerned about him, she shouldn’t be either.

“I can take care of myself.”

Then, picking up his essay draft and grabbing a bread roll from Jimmy’s plate, he walked out of the Great Hall and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh poor Will, I almost regret what I'm going to put you through in the next chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes for an involuntary midnight walk.

It was dark and cold and the moon cast an eery blue light reminiscent of cobwebs over the castle. Will felt his ankles break out in goosebumps as a chilly breeze tickled through the night and he realised he wasn’t wearing shoes. Or clothes apart from his embarrassingly short boxers and an old t-shirt. He was also on an outside staircase and it wasn’t entirely clear to him how he had arrived there.

He heard a sharp snort from behind and another breeze, warm this time, trailed down the back of his neck. One hand on the cold stone bannister, he slowly turned around on his step. Below him stood a stag, raven-black and huge. Its antlers were curved and menacingly sharp and, although he knew he must be dreaming, Will sprinted up the stairs in terror.

As he was running, he recognised that he was heading towards the Owlery, which, unfortunately, didn’t have a door he could close on his nightmare. It didn’t occur to him yet that physical doors were useless against his own mind.

When he reached the room at the top of the tower, there was a flurry of feathers as the owls flew from their perches, disturbed by the intruder. During the commotion, he backed against the wall and faced the doorway, silently cursing his lack of a wand.

Masked by the darkness and silhouetted by the blue light, a figure appeared at the doorway. Will’s shoulders tensed and, although it wasn’t a stag but a person, he called out in a trembling voice.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Will? Is that you?”

...

“Hannibal?”

The figure rushed forward, revealing that they were indeed Hannibal, and put a hand on Will’s arm.

“Are you alright?”

“What are you doing here, Hannibal?” Will asked, squinting his eyes and furrowing his brow.

“I thought I saw someone sleepwalking from my dormitory window and I came out to investigate. Are you fully awake now?”

“I- I think so,” he stammered and, to his mortification, tears started spilling messily down his cheeks.

Hannibal pulled Will into a hug, letting the salty tears stain his red flannel pyjamas.

“Is this the first time you’ve been sleepwalking?” he asked, his arms still around the frail, sweaty boy.

“No,” Will murmured into the warm shoulder. “It’s been happening for a while.”

Then, tearing himself away from Hannibal, he looked up at the taller boy with wet, fierce eyes.

“You can’t tell anybody!” he whispered, his voice only cracking slightly with fear. “You can’t let them send me back.”

“Of course not, Will,” said Hannibal calmly, although he couldn’t have known to what Will was referring. “Your secret is safe with me.”

~O~

Hannibal had insisted in walking Will back to the Ravenclaw Tower and Will had been too tired to convince him otherwise, despite the fact that two of them made double the noise and there was a higher chance of them being caught. It was only when they had arrived at the bronze eagle knocker and Will had squeezed his friend’s hand in thanks that he realised they had been holding hands the entire way back from the Owlery.

It was always relatively easy to sneak back into his bed as the other four boys were heavy sleepers, with the exception of Godfrey Lovegood, who had never commented on Will’s late night wanderings and was often not found in his bed either.

As he lay sweaty and shivering on the dark blue sheets, Will felt another pang of anger at Alana for her complete misjudgement of Hannibal’s character. The boy was prepared to leave his dorm in the middle of the night to help him. Well, he thought, turning onto his side, he hadn’t exactly known it had been Will when he came down. But Hannibal had been refreshingly sympathetic about Will’s predicament, unlike Will’s muggle-parents, who had seen it as ‘just another page of terms and conditions of this ghastly magic-stuff’, and Alana, whose sickening pity made Will feel smothered sometimes.

Glancing at the small clock on his nightstand, Will could just make out that it was almost four in the morning. With a sigh, he burrowed his face in the pillow and tried not to think about the way Hannibal’s arms had felt around him before going to sleep.

~O~

Breakfast the next morning was a chilled affair with Will being too socially inept to find another place to sit and Alana being too stubborn to move from her spot. Beverly, quite wisely, had opted to sitting with the Hufflepuffs, but kept glancing over to monitor Will and Alana’s non-existent conversation.

The year before Will was ‘incarcerated’, as he liked to refer, in the hospital, he had developed a small crush on the dark-haired, intelligent girl whose hair always smelled like black currants. After having awkwardly confessed his infatuation in a clumsy attempt at a kiss, Alana had smiled sadly and told him she felt more like his sister than anything romantic. It had been painful and horribly embarrassing but Will had smiled and nodded and refused to let his feelings get in the way of their friendship.

Now, it seemed, Alana wasn’t acting like his sister, but his overbearing, protective mother. Or worse, his shrink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foolish Will. You're going to need a shrink after I've finished this story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Dumbles have a chat and Riddle gets pissed during potions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and if anyone's forgotten: Amorentia is the most powerful love potion in the world and "has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive".

“Mr Graham?”

Will looked up from his doodling and hastily handed his essay to the Transfiguration Professor’s outstretched hand.

“Would you mind staying behind after class?” Professor Dumbledore asked politely.

Will shrugged but his heart started thumping fast at the prospect of being forced to talk to a teacher, most likely about why he wasn’t paying attention as much as he ought, and the teacher swept along the rest of the students desks collecting homework.

Once Dumbledore had freed the classroom of students and he and Will were left standing in an empty classroom, he started to speak.

“I’ve heard you’ve been having trouble lately.”

Will’s stomach dropped. This was a lot worse than being scolded.

“I’ve also heard you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Will shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Who have you been hearing this from?” he asked, desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking.

Dumbledore discarded the question and said, “if you ever need to talk, my office doors are always open.”

“Thanks, but I can always talk to my friend,” Will replied stiffly.

“Miss Bloom?”

“Hannibal Lecter, sir.”

“Ah.”

Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the amount of surprise and obvious concern wrapped around Dumbledore’s ‘ah’. What did everyone at this school have against Hannibal anyway?

“Very well, Mr Graham. You may go.”

The moment Will had exited the classroom, he spotted Hannibal, waiting for him and leaning against a wall with his books held casually against his hip. When he saw Will, the young wizard smiled and walked towards his friend.

“Did you tell him?” demanded Will as soon as Hannibal had approached.

“Tell him what?” asked Hannibal innocently.

“About what happened last night. You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“And I kept my promise. What did he talk to you about?”

“They’re worried about me again,” Will replied with a sigh.

“They have no reason to be,” Hannibal said airily. “You are merely suffering from a common ailment in many adolescents.”

Will snorted at the clinical register but didn’t say anything else until they had reached the huge entrance to the Great Hall for lunch and hesitated before opening the door. Hannibal understood.

“If you would like, you are welcome to sit at my table while we eat,” the boy said gregariously.

Will smiled in gratitude and followed Hannibal to the Gryffindor table, glancing only once at Alana at their usual bench before sitting down next to his friend.

~O~

Potions was always Will’s least favourite subject. He simply didn’t have the knack of sensing how many newt eyes were too many and had the unfortunate habit of knocking his cauldron over whenever he got flustered.

That afternoon was even worse when Slughorn forced the class into partners for a ‘friendly competition’. To make it fair, it seemed that he paired the most incompetent students with the adept ones, which was how Riddle became stuck with Will Graham.

Although absolutely and constantly civil, Will could feel Riddle’s social disdain for him, like the Slytherin could smell his muggle-heritage. Despite the uncomfortable atmosphere, the Legilimens tried to keep out of the way and sliced the ingredients while the other boy actually brewed the assigned potion: Amortentia. About twenty minutes into the lesson, the two boys had finished assembling the elements and were left to wait for the contents to stew.

“What do you smell?” asked Will in a distant voice, watching the shiny opal surface of the potion bubble and swirl in a mesmerising motion.

Riddle sniffed the cauldron.

“It’s not ready. I don’t smell anything yet.”

Which was rather strange, thought Will, as he was currently bathing in the most incredible medley of auras. New shoes; motor oil; owl pellets; a confusing, sweet and spicy musk that he was trying to identify...

Hannibal’s cologne.

The realisation hit him like a Bludgeon to his head and Will jumped in his seat from the shock, causing his knees to hit the desk and the cauldron to topple over, spilling its fragrant, milky contents all over the flagstone floor.

Cowering slightly, Will turned to the boy sitting next to him about to apologise and for an entire inadvertent second, their eyes locked.

A snake, a huge snake, a bathroom, a stone statue of Salazar Slytherin in a cavernous, dark room, a dingy bedroom in what seemed to be a muggle orphanage-

But his thoughts, or rather Riddle’s thoughts, were cut short by a horrible stinging sensation on Will’s cheek.

Will opened his eyes to see a furious Riddle, who was holding him by his shirt collar with one hand and had his other arm outstretched as if he had just slapped Will. A small crowd of students had gathered around their desk, cauldrons unmanned to see what was going on.

Then, as suddenly as his temper had flared, Riddle dropped his arm and released Will and a sincere, apologetic expression replaced his angry one.

“I am so sorry, Will. I don’t know what overcame me. Are you alright?” he asked, with a quiet, concerned voice.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry I knocked over all your hard work,” Will replied, honestly too scared to say anything else.

“Well, I’m glad you boys are all sorted and friends again!” Slughorn announced jovially from behind the congregation of classmates, evidently relieved that he wouldn’t have to punish his favourite student.

“I guess I’ll clean up the mess,” Will suggested, unable to imagine the other boy on the floor mopping up someone else’s spillage. Riddle nodded curtly in reply and Will spent the rest of the lesson on his knees, soaked in love potion and wondering where Riddle had seen such an enormous snake and why Will seemed to enjoy the smell of Hannibal’s cologne so awfully much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: Will has got the hots for Hannibal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes on another nighttime adventure.

It was following him. Will could feel its great presence behind him, hear the faint thrums of its sentience. The corridor was dim, torches glowed on the walls every few metres. He could be anywhere; all of Hogwarts looked basically the same.

It was edging closer. Will’s shoulders tensed. He saw the stag’s shadow envelop his in a mass of darkness and ran, bare feet thudding painfully on the hard floor.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real...

Dreams can’t hurt you, Will.

How many times had he heard that ‘assurance’? Dreams could induce as much pain as reality, for pain was just another projection of the mind. And if his mind was broken...

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real...

He had reached the top of a stairwell and, panting, swung open the door. Brass telescopes and maps littered the room: he was in the Astronomy Tower. Doubling over and clutching his knees, Will fought for breath and reminded himself that stags couldn’t climb stairs.

But apparently nightmares could.

Only a second later, it appeared in front of the door, appearing even larger and more intimidating in the enclosed, low-ceilinged room. Will was trapped and the animal was coming closer. Looking wildly about for an escape and finding none, the boy felt himself backing into a window. He glanced over his shoulder and was unable to see the ground through the night.

His stomach lurched and suddenly he was falling, tumbling gracelessly through the air. In a thrash of flailing limbs, he felt the stag’s antlers stabbing him in the back, like it was trying to impale him while he fell. He was going to die. He was going to hit the ground any second. He-

“Will! Wake up!”

Will’s eyes wrenched open and immediately met the gaze of those familiar chestnut-brown orbs. His limbs were no longer tangled in bony antlers but were in Hannibal’s arms. With a remarkably steady grip, Hannibal was carrying Will away from the window and into the centre of the room.

“Do you feel able to stand?”

Will nodded, and as his feet were gently tipped to the floor, his breathing evened at the feeling of solid ground.

“What time is it?” he asked, his thin arms still wrapped around Hannibal’s torso, unwilling to let the boy go in case he was too unstable to stand alone.

“Around midnight and we are in the Astronomy Tower. You seemed troubled today and I wanted to make sure you weren’t in any danger. I was worried you were going to jump.”

Will flushed at that.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“You are shivering and unable to stand without support. I beg to differ.”

Will wrinkled his nose and let go of Hannibal, desperate to prove him wrong, and promptly collapsed onto the Gryffindor, who stepped back and tripped over a telescope, causing them both to tumble onto the ground, Will’s nose on Hannibal’s cheek.

Absolutely mortified, Will pushed himself up until his face was at least four inches away from Hannibal’s and opened his mouth to apologise, which was immediately proven impossible by the presence of Hannibal’s lips on his.

For what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only three seconds, Will found the strength to pull away. He looked down at Hannibal with wide eyes and Hannibal just grinned up at him.

“Is there something wrong?” the other boy asked, his grin fading slowly into another worried expression.

Clearing his throat awkwardly and trying to look as dignified as possible in sprawled on his friend in boxer shorts, he whispered, “isn’t there some sort of law against this?”

Hannibal made a funny noise, half-way between a cluck and a bark, which Will supposed was him trying to laugh with someone lying on his chest.

“Let me reassure you, Will. The law is the least of your worries.”

Which was not reassuring in the slightest, but getting Hannibal to elaborate would mean doing something with their mouths that wasn’t kissing, and Will didn’t really like that option.

After a few minutes, they broke apart and, imbued with a new energy, Will stood up and offered his hand to Hannibal, who smiled and took it, if only to appease his friend.

Brushing himself down, Hannibal said,

“Slughorn is throwing another one of his parties next Saturday evening. Would you like to come with me?”

There was a moment of silence before Will spoke, staring at Hannibal’s dark green socks.

“Are you sure you want to bring me?”

Hannibal smirked and gestured with one hand at the patch of floor where they had just kissed.

“No, I mean,” Will began, not even trying to conceal a smile, “I’m terribly awkward at parties. They require me to be... _sociable_.”

Hannibal looked like he was going to argue, but Will interrupted and confessed, “I don’t have any dress robes.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows and a snarky expression entered his eyes.

“I can fix that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think I should write a bit where Hannibal and Will shop for dress robes?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal takes Will shopping and they have lunch.  
> Everything is beautiful!

It was snowing when Hannibal and Will set out for Hogsmeade that weekend and Will found himself constantly having to wipe his glasses with his scarf in order to see where he was going. Hannibal was wearing a fir-green wool cloak that flared in the wind and seemed to be enchanted so any snow falling on it was flicked off to one side. Will felt extremely self-conscious in his drab, muggle trench coat that was barely keeping him dry.

When they reached Gladrags Wizardwear, Hannibal graciously swung open the door and they stepped inside.

The store consisted of one room that was cheerily lit with floating golden orbs and colourful rolls of cloth that were stacked against every wall and surface.

Hannibal rung a small bell on a table and a short middle-aged wizard appeared at the employee’s entrance.

“Mister Lecter! How good to see you again,” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together and walking jovially towards the two boys. “Are those trousers I tailored fitting you well?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr Hakins, but I’m not here for me today. This is my friend, Will. He is going to need dress robes by next Saturday.”

Will stuck his hand out politely but Mr Hakins seemed to hesitate before shaking it, like he was critically assessing Hannibal’s choice in friends. It sort of felt like meeting one’s girlfriend’s parents, Will mused, before remembering, blushing, how accurate that analogy truly was.

“I was thinking of a cashmere blend robe in oxford blue with a waistcoat, tie, suspenders- the usual.”

What?

“Excuse me,” Will interrupted quietly, as the two wizards were discussing the thread count of the waistcoat. “I think this might be slightly too much.”

Hakins looked like he was about to argue, when Hannibal turned to Will and said honestly, “you have no need to worry. It’s on me.”

A few moments later, Will found himself standing on a stool in his underwear with a tape measure wrapped around his chest while Hannibal and Hakins searched the shelves for a colour for his tie.

“I like this cornflower-blue,” Hannibal announced, pointing at a silk bow-tie on the bottom shelf. “It matches his eyes.”

He looked at Will daringly and the boy felt his face catch fire with mortification.

Hakins applauded the choice and finished recording the measurements, while the Legilimens stared pointedly at the floor, sensing Hannibal watching and silently laughing. The robes were promised to arrive by owl by Wednesday morning and Hannibal placed some gold into the older wizard’s hand. (Will was careful not to listen when the price of his robes was declared.)

They left the shop around lunchtime and Hannibal suggested they went somewhere to eat before heading back to the castle.

“Sure, where do you want to go?” asked Will, who was entirely willing to do anything the other boy wanted after having received such an expensive present.

“I know a place.”

~O~

Tongue stinging, Will stirred his pumpkin soup, gently blowing on the surface to make it cool quicker. Hannibal had rather wisely not touched his goulash yet and waited patiently before taking a sip.

The restaurant was hidden away in a back alley in Hogsmeade and, although the interior was very classy, had few clients seated. The boys were seated against a large window that had been charmed to keep warm despite the blistering cold outside and the whole atmosphere was extremely intimate and cosy.

“Thanks,” Will murmured as he poured himself a mug of butterbeer to soothe his burnt tongue.

Hannibal didn’t make any indication that he heard him so he cleared his throat and started again, louder.

“Thank you for the robes and the other night and the night before. I, um- I really appreciate it. Thanks.”

Hannibal smiled and blinked once slowly.

“I- I just don’t understand why...” Will trailed off, not really knowing how he was planning to finish that sentence.

“I thought I made my intentions clear last Thursday night.”

“I know,” said Will hurriedly, glancing around the practically empty restaurant. “I just... why me?”

“I’ve been fascinated with you ever since you wandered into my mind, Will. You have a truly brilliant psyche.”

Embarrassment crawled up Will’s neck, leaving its bright red claw marks all over his cheeks.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” he muttered darkly and scowling so he didn’t grin stupidly at the compliment.

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing!” Will said with slightly too much conviction.

“What happened?”

“It was just- I accidentally, um, invaded Riddle’s mind?”

Hannibal’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“But I don’t think he took it too well.”

“How so?”

“It’s nothing; it didn’t even hurt that much.”

Anger flashed through Hannibal’s usually calm and reserved features, enough to make Will flinch in fright.

“That little-” Will heard his friend say something in what he assumed was Lithuanian and what he inferred was not a polite string of words.

Feeling quite guilty that he had ruined their lunch, he hastily took a sip of his pumpkin soup, which was hot, sweet and thick- just the way he liked it.

Hannibal followed suit and ate his goulash broodingly.

A horrible thought occurred to Will after a minute or so of silence.

“Hannibal?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t suppose Riddle will tell anyone what happened, do you? I don’t want to get into trouble...”

Which was not entirely what he was scared of but he wasn’t really prepared to get into that right now.

“It depends what you saw and how much he wants to hide it.”

Will hesitated.

“I think it was just a snake and a couple of rooms...”

Hannibal lifted his head slightly in thought.

“What is it you’re really afraid of, Will?”

So they were going to get into that right now after all.

“I don’t want them to send me back,” he said possibly more loudly than he intended it to be.

“Back where?”

Will took a deep breath.

“I don’t want to go to hospital again; I don’t want healers rooting around in my head again; I don’t want my parents to sigh about how inconvenient their son being neuroatypical is for their schedules and I certainly don’t want to leave Hogwarts. Or you.”

He stared down at his half-empty bowl of soup, out of breath and exhausted from the sheer effort that speech had cost him and avoiding his friend’s look of pity and misplaced sympathy.

There was a second and then he felt a finger under his chin and let his head be gently lifted and his eyes to meet Hannibal’s.

“I will never let them take you away.”

It was the longest time Will had ever willingly held eye contact with someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I used the word 'neuroatypical' to describe Will and I hope I haven't made a huge faux-pas because Will isn't autistic. I just thought it was appropriate because his mind works differently and also because he's the one describing his own brain and so he might be more sceptical than an objective viewer...?
> 
> Tell me if it isn't the right word to use or something; I really don't want to offend anyone or make them uncomfortable!
> 
> Also, next chapter: Slughorn's party!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party! (Will gets a little bit tipsy.)

“Oh my _God_ , Will, stop fidgeting!” Beverly exclaimed, as she proceeded to strangle her friend around the neck while apparently trying to correct the bow-tie. 

“I feel ridiculous,” he said again, staring dismally into the mirror in the Ravenclaw common room. “I look like a child in dress-up.”

“Maybe you should take the glasses off,” suggested Beverly, who had now surrendered to the asymmetry of the tie and moved on to tucking his shirt in properly.

“What, and bump into everyone all evening?”

It was a weak reply; he could just as easily have fixed his eyesight by magic, but the idea of being stuck in a social environment for several hours scared him and he felt like the glasses were a barrier of defence against unwanted eye contact. 

Beverly rolled her eyes dismissively, but didn’t push the matter.

After a few more minutes of straightening and tucking and combing and smoothing, she deemed him ready for a fancy night out. 

“Now don’t move an inch until Hannibal gets here,” she warned him. “I don’t want you messing it all up.” 

She backed slowly to the entrance of the common room, eyes rooting Will to the spot, and opened the door to reveal Hannibal already standing outside.

Will’s mouth went dry. Hannibal looked impeccable in his finely tailored, dark purple dress robes and his hair was smooth and perfectly parted. In his hand, he carried a dark grey fedora and, oh God, was that...?

“Are you wearing my tie?”

Hannibal smiled demurely.

“I believe _you_ are wearing _my_ tie.”

Blushing furiously, Will silently prayed that no one that evening would also notice the fact that both of their ties bore a striking resemblance to his eye colour.

Beverly looked between the two of them, as if trying to figure out the inside joke, and declared a bright, “have fun, boys!” before disappearing through the entrance-hole back to her own House tower. 

“Shall we go?” Hannibal inquired, twirling the hat onto his head and offering Will his arm.

Will nodded and, after only hesitating for a second, took his friend’s arm and they started on a brisk stride. He was incredibly uncomfortable with this level of closeness in public, but declining would have been rude and rudeness was-

“May I mention how dashing you look tonight?”

Will choked on his own thoughts.

“Sure,” he stammered.

“I think blue really suits your skin tone.”

“Gee, uh, thanks. You look real swell in purple.” 

Hannibal’s lips twitched at the informality of Will’s speech and Will felt another wave of embarrassment flood through his system.

“And here we are,” Hannibal announced, opening the door for him with a flourish.

Slughorn’s office was surprisingly larger than was typical and there were around forty students and teachers milling around the room in dress robes while various lackeys served drinks and horderves on gold platters. Will internally shuddered at how close he might have been to being one of them and clung to Hannibal’s arm instinctively tightly. 

“Welcome, my boy,” Slughorn boomed, advancing seemingly out of nowhere towards Hannibal. “I’m so glad you could come. And this is...?” he gestured towards Will, who tried not to feel put out that his potions professor of five years still did not recognise him.

“This is my _dear_ friend, Will Graham,” Hannibal declared, putting a daring emphasis on the word ‘dear’ that caused a confusing flip in Will’s stomach.

“Ah yes,” Slughorn breezed. “Now, I really ought to introduce you to Charlus Potter, who has written me a fascinating thesis on the effects of synthetic magical ingredients in potion making. You simply must speak to him about your own studies...”

Will found his mind wandering as the teacher rambled about Hannibal’s classwork and was surprised when he felt himself being guided through the crowd of people by Hannibal’s arm, which he was still faithfully hanging onto and now thankful of the support, to various parleys around the room.

He felt slightly guilty that he wasn’t socialising further than a short, murmured introduction, but Hannibal was extremely generous and Will wasn’t really required to say anything after that. However, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was restricting Hannibal from properly conversing with these intelligent, articulate fellows, who all saw Will as Hannibal’s charity-case.

Exhausted after the first hour from his mind throwing so many inferences about the different people’s characters at him, Will discovered that sipping glasses of mead helped numb his constant stream of perceptions and gave him something to do while his sophisticated, cultured friend maintained all the academic discussions on his behalf.

It was when Will tried accepting his third glass that Hannibal politely took the alcohol from his loosened grip and settled it on a nearby table.

“I think you’ve had enough for one evening, don’t you?”

“Do you find me interesting?” 

It was a startling, sudden question and one that Will possibly would not have been so bold to have asked had he not drank so much, but it had been weighing on his mind all the while Hannibal had been focussed on others’ company.

“Will,” he said seriously. “You are the most interesting and compelling person in this room, in this school even. You have the most remarkable skill and, although etiquette requires me to mingle with the other guests, your presence tonight is greatly appreciated.”

Perhaps it would have been a more beautiful moment if Will was able to stay still during the speech, but it really wasn’t his fault. The room was just spinning slightly and he had to work extra hard to keep balance.

“Lean on me,” Hannibal whispered, and he wrapped an arm around Will’s waist and led him to the other corner of the room.

“Attention!” called out Slughorn, who was standing in the centre of the office, tapping his glass with his wand. “I’d like to say a few words. Firstly-”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because, at that moment, Professor Dippet burst through the doors, followed swiftly by Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt the festivities, folks, but a very serious incident has occurred and we will need all of you to keep calm. One of our students has been attacked and we have reason to believe that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened It would be best for you all to return to your dormitories immediately and await further instruction.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho...
> 
> If you haven't noticed yet, I kind of have a thing for embarrassed!Will. And in case any of you are wondering, Charlus is Harry's paternal grandfather (born in 1929).
> 
> I also might end up drawing for you Will and Hannibal's outfits, if I can summon the artistic confidence, because I have a very clear image in my head but I am bloody awful at describing things.
> 
> A few more chapters left. (Sorry, GuessWho, I promised some violence but you're going to have to wait a little while longer!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal deal with the aftermath of the first attack.

_“It would be best for you all to return to your dormitories immediately and await further instruction.”_

Tense silence fell over the room like a heavy winter cloak. There were a few murmurs and chinks of glasses as both students and teachers put down their drinks and moved uncertainly towards the door.

Will felt Hannibal’s arm around his waist tighten and, although his thoughts remained slightly foggy, he could sense the fear and confusion in the room pierce his perceptions and gather as a tight, stinging sensation at the back of his throat.

“Come, Will. Let me take you back to the Ravenclaw tower,” whispered Hannibal, and with rigid movements he led his befuddled friend out to the corridor, which was distinctly louder as students were asking each other what was going on and exchanging conjectures as to who had been attacked. The noise level coupled with the ongoing fear was enough to make Will squint his eyes and rub his headache with the hand that wasn’t pinned to his side by Hannibal.

He wanted to ask Hannibal’s impression of what was happening or even to just seek comfort in hearing his smooth, lyrical accent speak but he didn’t want to extend the pulsing pain in his temples by making more sound than was necessary. Hannibal didn’t look like he wanted to say much anyway: his expression was dark and brooding, as if he was thinking extremely deeply and would not want to be disturbed.

When they had arrived at the tower, Hannibal gave Will a small squeeze before letting go.

“I regret that this night did not end as enjoyably as planned,” Hannibal said apologetically.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Will replied quietly. “I did have fun before that.”

Hannibal smiled.

“Thank you for indulging me, Will Graham. Stay safe, will you?”

Will took this as a reference to his somnambulism and nodded jerkily, before turning around to face the common room door. Muttering the eagle’s daily riddle, he stepped slowly inside.

The common room was filled with just about every Ravenclaw in the school, dozens perching on each sofa and most sitting in groups on the floor. The moment Will shut the door behind him, a host of heads swivelled around to face him, their eyes pinning him to the entranceway and rendering him unable to speak as the emotions and thoughts of around 70 distressed teenagers flung themselves into his mind.

He stood there, gaping and shuddering for God knows how long, until he recognised a voice calling out to him through the _feeling_.

“Will!”

He looked to his right and there sat Alana with a group of other teenagers, who were all in their pyjamas and were exchanging bewildered looks with one another. Using Alana’s passive expression as a method of grounding himself, he walked slowly towards the girls and sat down on the floor next to them.

“Where were you? We were all worried you had been attacked,” she said. “And why are you all dressed up?”

“I was out. At a party. With Hannibal.”

Alana raised her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip slightly.

“Are you... Are you drunk?”

“Not very.”

“Maybe you should go to bed...”

“I’m fine!” Will exclaimed. Then, quieter, “what is actually going on?”

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. They say Salazar Slytherin created the Chamber to rid the school of muggle-borns with some sort of monster that lives there. It’s a popular myth, or at least it used to be.”

“Do you suppose it’s the same monster that’s been killing unicorns out in the forest?” asked Godfrey Lovegood, who was staring out the window dazedly.

“Probably,” asserted Alana. “Although I can’t imagine what sort of monster would want to hurt a unicorn...”

Will stared at his hands and fidgeted, waiting for the inevitable ‘word of caution’.

“Will, I know you don’t agree with me, but I honestly don’t think it’s a good idea for you to hang around Slytherins anymore. Your parents are muggles and it’s probably best if you don’t... get too close.”

But Will was tired and his thoughts were hazy and weak against the thoughts of everyone else in the room. So he twitched Alana a quick smile and made his clumsy way to the dormitory through the mass of people on the floor.

When he was ready to go to sleep and staring at the ceiling above his bed, Will considered tying a limb to one of the columns on his four-poster bed to stop him from sleepwalking. However, this notion was outweighed by the fact that since he was too inebriated to walk in a straight line conscious, he probably wasn’t going to get very far asleep.

~O~

The next morning heralded an announcement that classes would continue as usual and that students were asked to be vigilant and report any suspicious behaviour to a member of staff immediately.

Although neither of them mentioned it, Hannibal started appearing outside of all of Will’s classes to walk him to his next period, even if it was on the other side of the school from his own. Will felt especially grateful as he knew how much Hannibal hated to be late and was sure to squeeze his hand when they reached his next lesson or, if no one was around, give him a small peck on the cheek before entering the classroom.

Hannibal’s presence was also extremely comforting as the feeling of apprehension in the school increased tenfold in the corridors as there were more people about and Hannibal’s aura of calm fearlessness was an anchor in the erratically undulating panic around Will.

There was a bright side to the continued thrash of emotions: Will was no longer sleepwalking. Or really sleeping at all as the constant stream of communal anxiety followed him into the night.

However, after about a week of this, Will struggled to see anything as a bright side and found himself both mentally and physically exhausted to the point of half-conscious numbness.

“Are you alright, Will?” asked Hannibal, while he was walking Will down to the greenhouses for Herbology.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” mumbled Will, and stumbled over a small stone in the grass.

“Perhaps a break from everything would do you good for a while,” Hannibal suggested.

“I kind of have lessons to go to.”

“So do I. Come with me.”

Hannibal turned sharply to the left and headed towards the forest. Will mentally glanced around for other students and followed his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story just keeps extending!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal skive off like the naughty boys they are.

“Where are we going, Hannibal?” Will asked breathlessly as the informal, half-trodden path they were following wandered between two large oaks on the outskirts of the woods.

“Don’t worry yourself, good Will. I know a place in the Forest that’s both safe and secluded.”

It was significantly colder in the trees- frost clung to bark like moss and the boys’ breath condensed into mist in front of them. Will shivered, regretting his flimsy cotton robes and cheap, non-waterproof shoes. Hannibal glanced behind at his friend and, noticing his discomfort, unknotted his Gryffindor scarf and started wrapping it around Will’s neck.

“Oh no, you really don’t have to,” protested Will.

“I insist. Given my homeland, I am more resistant to cold weather anyway.”

The goosebumps now developing on Hannibal’s neck suggested otherwise but the adolescent merely finished tying the scarf before turning around and continuing along the path.

What a gentleman.

It was around five minutes later when they arrived. Will recognised it instantly as the clearing he had mentally followed Hannibal into the first day they had met and had to consciously stop his face from displaying a ridiculous grin from his own sentimentality.

His efforts couldn’t have been very successful, however, as he spotted Hannibal returning the smile, although the expression was many times more attractive on him.

It was when Will started to wonder if smiles just didn’t suit him or if he just didn’t suit smiling when he noticed a burn mark on the bark of one of the trees to his left.

“What’s that?”

Hannibal followed Will’s gaze.

“Oh, that? It’s probably the work of a young Red Dragon. They’re quite common in these parts, I hear.”

Will froze.

“Quite common?” he asked, trying not to let his voice rise into a squeal.

Hannibal chuckled.

“You have nothing to fear, Will. I wouldn’t let anything here hurt you.”

The Gryffindor then swept the snow off of a flat rock in the centre of the clearing and gestured for Will to sit down. The young wizard obliged and the two teenagers sat in silence for a while before Will spoke.

“I don’t suppose they’ll miss us, will they? It’s just that I haven’t ever skipped class before...”

“People have been leaving class constantly to go to the Hospital Wing or to go back home or even just stay in their dormitories because they’re too scared to leave. I don’t think they’ll pay us much attention; they certainly didn’t before.”

There was another brief silence and Will suddenly realised how much he appreciated silence. No tense stinging at the back of his throat, no accusations and rumours and speculations. Just... silence.

Well, except for Hannibal’s quiet hums of contentment, which were really quite endearing.

Will shifted his weight slightly so he was leaning more heavily on his friend’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He was only vaguely aware of a soothing hand fiddling with his hair and warm, soft lips pressed gently against his temple before he slowly nodded off to sleep.

~O~

Will was in a bed. It was firm and thin and definitely not his own. He opened his eyes and was faced with horribly familiar, white-washed walls. He lurched upright and felt cold handcuffs dig into his wrists.

“I’m not sick; I’m not sick; I’m not sick!” he shouted into the emptiness.

This couldn’t be happening. He had this place left months ago. There was no way he could be back at St Mungo’s.

“You promised you’d never let them take me away,” he whispered, hot tears spilling freely down his cheeks.

“You promised, Hannibal!” he screamed and heard his pained voice echo back at him.

Rocking frantically back and forth on his mattress, he tried to stifle his whimpers by focussing on his movement.

“Stop crying,” he muttered to himself. “Crying only makes you seem crazier.”

He was an expert on how to not seem crazy after almost a year of training. Surely he could fool them again and get out of here.

He was concentrating on drying his face with his sleeve when the door opened and a figure in an off-white coat emerged. Will looked up and forced himself to make eye contact with the healer like a crazy person wouldn’t.

“Riddle?”

The Slytherin smiled coldly and then, without warning, leapt forward, his hands grabbing the ends of Will’s scarf and pulling.

Spluttering and struggling fruitlessly against his shackles, Will felt his breath leaving him; he was going to die; he was...

And suddenly the scarf morphed into a snake, scaly and abrasive against Will’s neck. As Will sat there, wheezing and gasping for air, it slid off of his shoulders and onto the floor. Will and Riddle watched the snake grow, its dark green body growing longer and thicker until it was almost the size of-

“A basilisk,” breathed Will and, as if in confirmation, the snake’s large yellow eyes met his and he felt himself instantly turn to stone.

~O~

Will woke up, shaking and sweaty, on what appeared to be the floor of a bathroom stall. 

And inches away from his feet lay a girl staring up at him through her spectacles with open, glassy eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to take my time with the next chapter because I have so many ideas for it and I really want the climax of this story to flow well.  
> Comments so far?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down.

“Geezum.”

Heart thrashing in his ribcage, Will crawled forwards to the girl and put a hand to her neck. It was definitely warm: that was a good sign, right? He rubbed around her neck desperately for any sign of a pulse but felt radio silence. She was dead.

Will’s breath juddered violently in his collapsed lungs as he stared, frozen in terror, at the dead girl in front of him. Whatever had killed her was likely to still be around, ready to attack him too.

Unless Will had been the one who killed her.

He tried desperately to swallow the burning feeling rising in his throat but his mouth was too dry. He couldn’t have done this, could he?

Panic. Pure and raw, it ripped through his nervous system like fire through a prairie. Unable to leave the cubicle from the sheer force of his shuddering, he clutched his arms around his shins and buried his face into his knees.

They were going to _love_ this at St Mungo’s.

After what felt like several minutes later, over the sound of his own sobs, Will could hear the ominous sound of clinical clicks coming from outside the stall.

Oh God, please don’t let it be...

The moment Will looked up, it had arrived, trapping him and the girl in the cubicle with its terrible, majestic presence in the doorway. There, the stag stopped and surveyed Will with its dark brown eyes, as if waiting for him to respond.

“This isn’t real,” Will told the stag, shakily, although he was really trying to convince himself.

It bowed its head slightly, like it was acknowledging the statement, and for the first time, Will looked straight into its eyes.

A golden pendulum swung.

He saw himself, or how he must have looked weeks ago on the Owlery staircase in boxer shorts. He saw corridors lit by timid orange glows and the grassy area right by the lake.

A dazzling-white unicorn was lying on the leafy undergrowth of the forest, a gash on its belly exposing quicksilver drops of blood. There was beauty in the fallen creature, in the stag’s ambivalence towards the emptiness of unnecessary cruelty and the absolute necessity of death.

Will could feel power radiating from the stag’s memory, trickling into his body by some strange osmosis.

_“I have done what no human ever could.”_

And then the unicorn’s body changed from a horrifying art into an unremarkable, scrawny teenaged boy. Will. He was sitting on the rock in the clearing, the smallest indication of a smile dancing on his sleeping face. He looked peaceful.

It was at this moment that Will knew.

Wrenching himself from the stag’s psyche, he forced sensation to return to his body and leant gasping against the wall, feeling mentally exhausted but physically stronger than before.

“This is real,” he corrected himself. “I am real. I’m just no longer sure about you though... _Hannibal_.”

The stag’s bright eyes widened and it stepped back from the cubicle. Turning its head to face the ceiling, it closed its eyes and started to shrink. Black fur retracted back into its skin and its antlers withdrew slowly into its skull. It wasn’t long until Hannibal Lecter was standing in front of Will, his shirt unwrinkled and his tie not even slightly askew from his transformation.

“You’re an animagus. God, I’m an idiot,” he muttered with a bitter grimace. “You really had me going there. I guess all those times I thought I was sleepwalking were real too. I even thought you were helping me.”

Trembling with anger, he stood up in the corner of the stall and looked at Hannibal in the eyes.

“Is she real?”

Hannibal hesitated.

“Is she real?” Will almost screamed.

“Yes.”

Will groaned and clutched his forehead with one hand, trying to remember how to breathe again while Hannibal waited patiently for him to finish.

What a fucking gentleman.

The golden pendulum swung again.

“It wasn’t you though. This was Riddle and his pet basilisk.”

Hannibal chuckled and Will felt another twitch of anger in the back of his neck.

“I wondered when you were going to figure it out,” Hannibal murmured.

“Is that what this was? A game? Just fiddling around with my mind and seeing what I would do?”

Will stepped forward, his toes an inch away from the girl’s inanimate body.

“Was I just the mongoose you put under the house when the snake slithered by?”

Hannibal matched his step and the two wizards became only a foot apart, separated only by a dead girl at their feet.

“Will,” he started, but Will never got to hear what he had to say because over Hannibal’s shoulder he caught sight of a figure in a green tie by the sink raising his wand at Hannibal and, within a split-second, he could hear a curse being mentally shouted across the room and, without thinking or realising what he was doing, he tackled Hannibal with a previously undiscovered strength and felt a spell graze his arm as they clattered onto the ground, Will’s head smacking against the tiles in the process.

As his thoughts caught up with what had just happened, Will lay still on the cold floor, his vision being enveloped in black phosphenes and all sensation in his body disintegrating into nothingness.

“See?”

_“See?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one chapter left after this. I really hope you've all enjoyed the story so far and will follow it with me to the bitter end!
> 
> Do leave your lovely comments. I would love to know what you think about the events that have just transpired!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter.

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“His eyes are flickering. I think he’s waking up... Will! Can you hear me?”

Will felt his consciousness being dragged to the surface of a deep, dark dream. Everything felt fuzzy, like he was listening to a crackly gramophone recording and his head felt about ten times heavier than usual.

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Alana and Beverly leaning over him, both smiling widely as his awareness was slowly returned to him.

“What... Where am I?” he asked, his voice raspy as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“You’re in the hospital wing, Will,” Beverly informed him chirpily. “You got a bad concussion from your attack and you’ve been asleep for about three days but they caught him!”

“Who?”

“The guy who attacked you! Apparently, it was some third year who was messing around with a monster-spider. They expelled him, thankfully, but for some reason, Professor Dumbledore refused to let them kick him out entirely so he has to live in a shed near the Forest.”

Will felt the blood trickle out of his face.

“A third year?”

“Yeah, I think his name is Rubeus or something. Don’t worry, Will! You’re safe now.”

“What about the girl...?” he asked tentatively.

Alana and Beverly exchanged a short glance.

“She was dead when they found you,” Alana whispered, taking Will’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

There was a strained silence.

“Where’s Hannibal?” asked Will, although he hated himself for asking.

“Hannibal left. His uncle picked him up yesterday to go back to Durmstrang,” said Alana, her eyes brimming with compassion.

Will stared resolutely at the ceiling.

“He didn’t say goodbye,” he told them in a distant voice that didn’t quite feel like it was coming from him.

“Will, I-” Alana began but he interrupted her.

“I loved him,” he said, simple and sincere.

“I know,” Alana said and she squeezed his hand, but Will was looking at Beverly, determined that she at least would understand. He only saw her eyes widen with realisation but he could tell she _knew_.

~O~

The next two days, Will remained in his bed in the Hospital Wing. It was a little too similar to his room in St Mungo’s for him to be comfortable, but he got over it. Like he was trying to get over Hannibal.

Recovery was a mechanical, physical process and as Will stretched and allowed all breakages and complications to heal with ritual exercises, he thought a lot about what had happened. He couldn’t prove anything that had occurred, especially as he wasn’t even entirely sure what that was anyway.

Still, a substantial amount of guilt had found its way into his lungs and Will decided the best way to confront it was to visit the small shed where his supposed attacker was now presiding.

He couldn’t tell anyone he had left the Hospital Wing, in fear that they would try to stop him, and planned his journey around seven in the evening, when everyone would be at dinner.

It was dark, and crisply cold, which was a refreshing change to the stuffiness of being constantly indoors. However, Will had evidently overestimated his strength as he had to stop around half a dozen times on his way to catch his breath. Still, he had accepted patience as part of his armistice agreement with the universe and, with a defeated numbness, obediently let his body take the time it needed.

When he arrived at the shed, which revealed itself to be actually more the size of a hut, it took him around a minute to summon the courage and energy to knock on the door.

Another minute after his first knock, he rapped on the door again, in case he hadn’t been heard the first time.

There was a sort of clatter of what sounded like crockery, followed by a muffled, “go away!” and several badly concealed sobs.

Will would have liked to say that it was his own benevolence that made him enter, but, in all honesty, leaving would have required him to walk all the way back up the hill and he thought he smelled stew in the hut, so he pushed open the door and walked inside.

He was instantly hit with a torrent of emotion: distress, fear, loneliness and frustration pummelled through his tired body and almost made him collapse.

A large boy was sitting at a round table in the middle of the room with his face in his hands, crying very boisterously. Around the room were cardboard boxes of hodgepodge possessions that he evidently hadn’t unpacked yet and in the fireplace was a pot of very dubious, viscous stew.

Unsure of how he should introduce himself and mentally kicking himself for being in this awkward situation anyway, Will asked, “do you want some help unpacking?”

The boy looked up, his black eyes taking on a defensive expression.

“What do yer want?”

Will shifted his weight hesitantly.

“It might make you feel better to, I dunno, have a little breathing space...” he mumbled at his feet.

Will felt a sudden break in the emotions, like someone had turned down the volume on a phonograph.

“Thanks,” the boy said, and stood up, revealing that he was almost twice Will’s height. “The name’s Rubeus.”

“I’m Will,” and he shook the enormous hand extended in front of him with only a little twinge of pain at the firmness of the handshake.

~O~

“I didn’t kill Myrtle,” the boy said, suddenly, as Will was folding some incredibly ugly sweaters to put into a drawer.

“I know,” Will replied. “I’m sorry they took away your spider.”

“Acromantula,” corrected Rubeus. “They didn’t really take him away. He’s jest run off somewhere in the forest. Feels like I’ve lost a friend, though.”

“I just lost a friend too,” Will said, finding himself unusually open. “He was more than a friend really, not that it matters anymore.”

“Sucks.”

“Agreed,” and Will surprised them both by laughing. It was easy, he found, to talk to Rubeus. It felt a lot simpler, calmer even, and there wasn’t any pressure for him to act anything other than natural in his presence.

When they were done, Rubeus ladled them each a small bowl of stew and they sat outside, using the pumpkins as chairs. Will was surprised that they found a pumpkin large enough to hold the huge boy, but he reasoned there must have been enchantments placed around the vegetables.

Looking back on the castle, its lively windows shining bright over the lake and across the grounds, it looked like a boat sitting gently on calm water. Sitting next to his new friend, Will could honestly say that at that moment, he felt safe.

“I was thinking of getting a dog,” Rubeus said as Will took his first sip of soup. It was hot, but not scalding, and although it wasn’t half as delicious as the soup he had with Hannibal all that time ago, it served its purpose. “You know, to keep me company out here.”

“That would be great. I love dogs,” Will told him, smiling.

And as they discussed the logistics of keeping a large animal in a small hut, unbeknownst to them, a silhouette of a stag was watching the boys from within the dark forest, its face wet with silver tears.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of the ending?  
> I don't think it's quite over for Will and Hannibal in this universe though- I've grown so attached to this story! We might see them again in another fic... Who knows?

**Author's Note:**

> cannibalsoncannabis.tumblr.com


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